


Sinking

by spicycronch



Category: The Half Bad Trilogy - Sally Green
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Death, Denial, Drug Use, M/M, Spoilers for Half Lost, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 05:22:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15812253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicycronch/pseuds/spicycronch
Summary: “Sleeping, being awake, sometimes it feels like the same thing. And I feel stuck on that day- before everything ended but after.. after…”You're not afraid to die.





	Sinking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YourTrueNemesis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourTrueNemesis/gifts).



> My half of the fic trade with YourTrueNemesis. Prompt was "Nabriel, Arran & Nathan bonding. Post death, “You wanna what I’m scared of? I’m scared of everything. I’m scared to move. I’m scared to breathe”."

 

Sometimes you feel like you’re drowning. Arran means the best for you, he really does, but you still feel like his presence is suffocating you, pulling you under. But he’s your brother and you love him, so you allow yourself to be taken by the waves for just a little while as you camp with him.

He’s beside you right now, and Gabriel is across by the cliff again. Arran likes it best during these times, you think. When Gabriel climbs far off and you just watch him. You never were good at listening, but it was for Gabriel’s sake that you tried. Try. So you try now, tear your gaze away from the cliffside and focus on the sound of your brother’s voice.

And he gives you another one of those looks. It’s not pity, thankfully, but you know he’s worried about you. So you say that you’re tired and you’re submerged again, numb and icy from the frigid waters that separates you from Gabriel. The cold is welcome though and it soothes the burn in your heart.

You wake to the sound of Arran’s shuffling footsteps as logs tumble against the ash of last night’s fire. It’s day again, but that thought brings you no comfort. Day is when the most dangerous of monsters come out, the ones that wreck your home and kill your family and friends you look around and Gabriel is not here. You ask where he is and Arran looks stricken for a moment and he moves first but you’re faster and you look for Gabriel against the rocks, in the trees but you can’t find him and you wonder where he’s gone gone gone-

The ice is back as Arran tips your head and makes you drink, but you’re calm now. Maybe this isn’t calm, but it’s close. You’re tired again but you don’t want to sleep. Not yet, anyway, so you start picking up kindling for the fire and Arran smiles sadly at you when you doze against a tree.

“Do you want to light it this time?” He’s talking to you and you know it, but the words slip out of your mind like the footprints calm wash of the tide. He repeats the words when you blank him, stare a little more and try to connect the sounds with the way his lips are moving. You can barely read as is, and reading lips is even harder but Arran is patient with you and seems so much happier when you nod. You find that funny, the ridiculousness of something so simple making him happy, and a laugh tumbles out of your lips before you can help it. He’s looking at you differently now- something concerned and curious and strange in his expression- but hearing you laugh seems to outweigh whatever else he was thinking and he pats you on the shoulder.

You light the fire again when Arran says it’s time for dinner, and he asks if you feel like talking about it.

“About what?” You ask as cinders jump when you put down another log. One burns your leg and you remember the game you used to play, but matches are too precious to waste right now. So before he can answer what  _ it _  is you hop up and gather tiny bits of twigs, each no longer than the pinky you gave up. You remember the pain of losing it, though you’d gone through things a hundred times worse before and after cutting off your finger. But Gabriel was careful and didn’t hesitate to make a clean cut.

Remembering then hurts, but you shake your head and return to the campfire. You present your sticks to Arran and he just looks confused.

“Do you remember when we were kids? We used to play with matches, see who could hold them the longest.”

“Yeah, and I still have scars from that.”

“We should play that. For old time’s sake.”

Gabriel is back and he’s watching you as you toss a handful of sticks to Arran.  

He picks one up and lights it, and it burns a bit slower than a match. But he lasts only a little longer than he did when you were thirteen and he’s talking again. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine. Why?” You let your stick burn for just a tad bit longer than Arran, and then it’s his turn again.

“You just seem bet- like you’re in a clearer headspace today.” He drops his stick again.

“I guess. I’ve been thinking.”

“I thought I smelled something burning.”

You glare at him, but you struggle to maintain as Arran grins beside you. But his eyes are bright and the glints of his eyes plead you to continue. He’s trying to not pressure you into talking, but you want to talk now. You break the stare first and immediately it makes the pain in your hand stronger. You drop the twig and think you remember something-

“I’ve been thinking about the war.”

And now he’s watching you. You can tell he wants to say something, the way his lips keep moving but no sound comes out. His hands flutter uselessly in his lap, but eventually he settles and just watches you.

“It’s not… I need water.” He gets up to stand but you shake your head and grab a cup yourself. It gives you just enough time to get your thoughts in order. Not completely, they keep escaping like water flowing through your open palms, but you still have just enough to try. 

“How are you?” He asks again and you see the escape for what it is. He’s giving you an out, but you’re not going to take it. The words are foreign against your tongue and it feels heavy like there’s ice inside your throat and under your skin so you focus on the fire and pick up another stick. It burns your skin but you’re used to that and it doesn’t hurt nearly as much when it’s on the outside.

“I’m scared.” You light another match. “I’m scared, and I thought I was scared then but when I try to remember, it’s all foggy.”

“Nathan?”

“I hate it. I hate feeling so useless. It’s like I’m in the cage all over again only everyone I care about is outside, outside and fighting and dying because I’m not strong enough and those bastards are out there while I’m trapped inside-”

“Nathan, don’t panic. It’s okay, you’re safe now- hey, shh.” He’s rubbing your back now and everything is calm. You look up at Gabriel, but Arran doesn’t seem to notice that he’s there. Gabriel isn’t smiling, and you whisper “I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” Gabriel says with Arran’s voice. And that’s wrong, Gabriel doesn’t talk to you anymore, doesn’t talk at all and you remember-

“Everything. I’m afraid to breathe, to move, I’m afraid to  _ live _ . The longer time goes on the more I feel like I’m moving away, like I’m losing a part of myself, but stopping time is worse. Then  _ I’m _  the only thing that’s moving, and I keep trying to go forward but I feel like I’m being left behind at the same time.” You’re ranting now and your mouth is dry, but you light another stick to keep calm and the heat keeps you from going under. “Sleeping, being awake, sometimes it feels like the same thing. And I feel stuck on that day- before everything ended but after.. after…”

You’re repeating again, and Arran tries to calm you down. But you can’t, you’re getting worked up again and Gabriel’s right in front of you but he’s not, and you’re remembering but you can’t, you refuse, you won’t you won’t you won’t-

“Gabriel,” you whisper, soft like a scream in the back of your throat and then you’re there. Time stops in your hands but you can’t keep it there, it’s his blood on your hands as red as fire, as red as flame and the warmth of it hurts so much but then the foul taste of a potion touches your tongue. Your cup of water douses the flames, and once you’ve cooled down you think that it’s going to be cold tonight. He’s still not smiling, he’s still not here, and you lean against Arran’s shoulder as dreams take you.

Arran tries to get you to talk again halfway through the day, and it’s the warm feeling of Gabriel’s fingers between your own that gives you the courage to continue. You’re calmer now, washed ashore after the storm, and you lie back against your sheepskin to stare at the clouds.

“What about it?”

“Just… everything?”

“Specific.”

“About being afraid, then.”

You think about that for a minute. “I guess I feel like I’ve been lost. Like I’m hurt, can’t run, like I’m waiting for someone to find me but no one’s looking.”

“I’m here with you.”

“I know. It helps sometimes.” It’s the truth, but it still leaves you feeling bitter. “It helps when I just feel lost.”

“But when it doesn’t…?”

“Then I’m wounded, not lost.” Gabriel squeezes your hand, and the words hurt for a reason you can’t remember.

“That’s why we’re here. So you can heal.” There’s something nice about the way that he says it. No judgment, no rush. But you don’t remember what hurt you in the first place.

Gabriel smiles at you, and you close your eyes and dream.


End file.
